


Torn

by ibelongtonegan



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, Feels, Gore, Guilt, Smut, Spoilers, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 12:06:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14748551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibelongtonegan/pseuds/ibelongtonegan
Summary: When Simon betrays Negan, he offers him a chance to beat him in a fight. But no matter who comes out as the winner, you will lose one of them...





	Torn

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the conflict between Negan and Simon at the end of Season 8 of The Walking Dead. I’m still not on board with that storyline or the way they ended it, and will forever believe in the Negan-Simon bromance. Since the writers thought otherwise, I decided to write my version of the story.

You were watching the scene unfold with horror, fists tightened into balls. It felt like being stuck in a nightmare without the hope of waking up. Your nails dug into your palm so hard, they almost drew blood, but you didn’t even notice. You wanted to intervene or scream for someone to do something, but couldn’t. It was too late for that now.

Simon grabbed onto Negan’s ear making him bend his torso to the side. After successfully wiggling free from his grasp Negan delivered a series of blows on Simon’s jaw in retaliation. The two men were grunting and breathing heavily, sweat and blood glistening on their faces. They resembled two rabid animals fighting for life and death. Holding onto each other’s arms but with neither of them able to overpower the other, they ended up in what looked like a morbid dance. 

You were standing next to Arat, paralysed by fear. Your heart was drumming in your ears, and you felt nauseous, needing to get out into the fresh air, yet you were glued to the spot. Arat’s hand circled your wrist, whether to stop you from doing something reckless or to offer you comfort, you didn’t know. 

Gathering all his strength, Negan managed to push back Simon on his heels and using his momentum head-butted him. Simon staggered back and tried to defend himself, but was visibly disoriented from the force of the hit. Using his right-hand man’s momentary dizziness to his advantage, Negan kicked out Simon’s legs from under him, and his massive body hit the floor like a sack of potatoes. Simon tried to get back on his feet, but Negan left him no time and booted him in the face, his heel landing on his nose with a loud crack.

The sight reminded you of a bloody gladiator game where the factory hall of the Sanctuary served as the arena, and the spectators consisted of about a hundred men and women standing around the two opponents in circles, attendance mandatory for the Saviors and all workers. Negan wanted to send a clear message that betrayal would not go unpunished and anyone daring to cross him, regardless of how high they were ranked, would meet the same fate. 

You wanted the fight to end with neither and both of the men winning, but knew that was not going to happen.

Negan was now crouching over Simon’s body, his hands gripping his throat with all his might. Simon was unable to protect himself anymore, his arms limp by his side, blood seeping from his nose. Negan growled a series of insults at him pressing the words through his teeth with burning hatred, but your mind couldn’t process the meaning of them. 

Your hand flew to your mouth to stifle a silent scream as Simon’s windpipe crushed under Negan’s fingers, the stomach-turning sound echoing off the walls of the factory hall. 

Negan released his grip on Simon’s battered throat and stood up on wobbly feet, looking around his people with a smug expression. There was a bruise on his lip and a deep cut on his forehead, blood and dirt smeared over his cheeks.

“What an asshole,” he huffed, the corner of his mouth twitching with an arrogant smirk.

His eyes met yours, and a flash of regret crossed his face as if he had just realised that you were there. He retrieved Lucille from Arat and left without another glance at the lifeless body of his former first-in-command.

Now that the spectacle had ended, people started leaving to go about their business, whispering amongst each other. Your body froze when a hand touched your back.

“Do you want to have a moment with him alone?” Laura’s voice was laced with concern. 

You nodded silently not being able to form words.

“I’ll be outside.” she squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. 

“Can I borrow your knife?” you rasped, barely above a whisper.

Laura sighed out loud before answering.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, but I can’t. Negan’s orders. He wants him on the fence as a warning, to make an example out of him for everyone. I tried, but he was adamant.”

Simon was not only dead, but he was going to turn, and there was nothing you could do about it. You wanted to cry, but somehow the tears wouldn’t come.

You gave Laura a curt nod without looking up. When you heard her footsteps fading, you walked over to Simon’s body and knelt down by him on the ground. His face was even more bruised and bloodied than Negan’s, and there was a huge purple mark around his right eye. His eyes were staring into the distance, dull and glassy. 

You tucked a strand of stray hair out of his face, gently caressing his forehead. You closed his eyes, and his lids moved obediently under your fingertips. Retrieving a handkerchief from your pocket, you wiped off parts of the blood from his nose and lips. When you were finished, you sat back on your heels and tried to take in his features one last time. He looked as if he had been only sleeping. Peaceful almost.

You wanted to say to him so many things before the fight but couldn’t. Simon was cheerful and optimistic. Being bigger and taller than Negan he was confident in his win. He didn’t even want to say goodbye to you. 

“It will be over before you know it,” he asserted with his signature toothy smile. 

You should have told him the truth then, but didn’t have the courage.

You leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead. 

You heard heavy footsteps approaching and knew your time was up. The Saviors were there to collect the body before it would turn.

After one last look at Simon’s face, you stood up and were about to leave when Laura stopped you.

“He wants to see you.”

She didn’t have to say who.

Your first reaction was to object but decided against it. Laura was only the messenger and had nothing to do with the order that had been given to her. You were going to have to face him sooner or later anyway. 

You followed Laura up the stairs in silence, completely absorbed in your thoughts. When you reached the familiar red door, she knocked twice and then opened it wide, motioning for you to step inside.

Negan was sitting on the couch, Carson tending to his wounds. His leather jacket was draped over the armrest, and dirt and droplets of dried blood stained his white shirt. The cut on his temple was cleaned and stitched already. Upon your arrival, Negan dismissed the doctor with a wave of his hand and Carson obeyed packing his kit hastily, visibly relieved that he wouldn’t have to witness what was going to follow. On his way out he gave you a polite half-smile that you didn’t return. 

You were startled by the sense of calm that came over you. You thought that coming face to face with the man who killed Simon with his bare hands would make you sick, but you felt eerily serene.

“Would you like to sit?” Negan offered, motioning for the chair opposite him, but you shook your head, preferring to keep your distance. 

Negan leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees.

“I’m sorry you had to see it,” he lamented entwining his fingers in his lap. 

You didn’t answer or acknowledge his words and kept looking at him, motionless. 

“I know you hate me right now, but I didn’t have a choice. Simon...he forced my hand,” he probed, searching your face for emotions or at least some form of confirmation that you understood what he was trying to tell you. When he found nothing, he ducked his head between his shoulders and continued, his voice faltering, no trace of his usual theatrics. 

“I tried to find another way, but if he had lived, my people wouldn’t have learnt their lesson. They would have tried to overthrow me again, and I have to protect the people here. I have to keep them alive.” He sounded almost desperate now, and his emotional nakedness caught you off guard.

You knew he was right. The rules were strict, but for a reason. Negan had established them to ensure that the people at the Sanctuary could survive. They had to work hard and follow the rules, but in return were safe from walkers, had a roof over their head, two warm meals a day and access to medical attention. It was more than most people living out there on their own could hope for. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked because Negan kept everyone in line by enforcing the rules relentlessly. 

Until Simon decided to betray him and take over as the leader of the Sanctuary.

Negan stood up from the couch and strode over to you. Testing your reaction, he carefully closed the distance between the two of you and raised his gloved hand to your face, cupping it gently. 

“Doll...say something,” he pleaded, despair written on his face. 

Your answer was instantaneous and caught him completely off guard. You raised your hand and slapped him hard. A stinging sensation shot through your palm where it connected with Negan’s cheek. You tried to hit him again, but this time he was prepared for it and caught your hand mid-air. 

“He was my brother!” you shouted hysterically, sobs shaking your body.

“I know, baby...I’m so sorry,” Negan murmured and pulled you against his chest. 

“And you are letting him turn! How can you do that to him? To me?” you screamed trying to wiggle free, but he was holding you tight. 

“You know why,” he whispered in your ear, his voice cracking. “I don’t have a choice.”

Hearing the torment in his words, your body went limp in his arms, and the tears that had been absent before finally spilled over. 

“I offered to fight him to give him a chance. I didn’t want to kill him like a coward,” Negan insisted.

His words were like a dagger piercing your heart, but you knew they were true. Negan could have just killed Simon when he apprehended him after exposing his plot. Under any other circumstance, such an act would have been punishable by death, but Negan decided to give Simon an opportunity to beat him in a fair fight. It was more than generous, and you knew he did it only because of you.

“I thought I was going to lose you!” you wept into the fabric of his t-shirt, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you from not only feeling this way but saying it out loud.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” Negan cooed. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

You hugged him back, hoping that it would numb the ache in your chest. Closing your eyes, you let your head rest on his shoulder, enjoying the soft caress of his fingers on your back. Your body betrayed your mind and melted into him, the shock over Simon’s loss dulled momentarily by relief that Negan was fine. Craving more contact, you tightened your hug around his chest, eliciting a loud wince from him. 

“Are you hurt?” you asked alarmed, searching his upper body for injuries. 

“Just a bruise, doll, nothing serious,” he assured with a smile and lowered his head, his mouth hovering over yours.

You relaxed against him and closed your eyes, revelling in the warmth radiating off of him. You felt like a tiny planet pulled in by the gravity of the Sun, not being able to withstand it despite the danger of being absorbed into it eventually.

“You are my everything. And now more important to me than ever,” Negan confessed, his breath caressing your nose and lips. 

You looked up at him with a frown. His eyes were burning with sincerity and determination.

“I will take care of you. Both of you.”

Your eyes widened at his comment.

“Yes, I know. Carson has explicit orders to inform me about a pregnancy immediately.”

You only found out about your condition that morning when Carson did a routine check-up after you experienced nausea and weakness that you attributed to stress. When the results came back, you were staring at him in shock, barely able to process that you were six weeks pregnant. You pleaded him not to say anything about it, and he was visibly uncomfortable with your request but agreed to give you some time. At least he kept his word and didn’t tell Negan before the fight and risk the news clouding his judgement, as you feared it might. It was no secret around the Sanctuary how much Negan desired an heir, but despite having multiple wives, none of them had gotten pregnant. 

Up until your paths crossed when Simon brought you back to the Sanctuary three months ago.

Simon was the only family you had after your parents had died in a car crash. There might have been an age gap between the two of you, but he always had your back and protected you, whether from bullies at high school or boyfriends who got too aggressive. After the outbreak, you became separated, but you never gave up hope that one day you would find your brother again. 

You were wandering aimlessly, weak and starving, having run out of supplies days before. When your body threatened to give up on you, you collapsed on the side of the road, feeling death near. Your only wish was that it was going to happen before a walker stumbled upon you. 

But it was Simon who found you first. 

He couldn’t believe his luck when he spotted you on his way back from a supply run. Your hair was longer and messy, your body thinner, and dressed in filthy rags, but he recognised you immediately. He carried you back to the truck in his arms, drove back to the Sanctuary and stayed by your side while Carson patched you up. You were finally reunited with your brother, and he promised that he would never leave you again.

And then you met Negan. He came down to the infirmary after he was informed about your arrival. Simon knew his boss and recognised the meaning of the mischievous look on his face right away, just as he noticed the blush appear on your cheeks in response to it. He did everything to stop you from falling for Negan, warned you about how dangerous and unpredictable he was, not to mention the harem of wives he had at his disposal. 

Seeing Simon’s disapproval, you tried to resist Negan’s charms. You did your best to evade him and limited your interactions to polite but formal chats. But you could only prolong the inevitable. Negan was a tenacious man, and after sending Simon to an outpost for a pick-up, he invited you to his room for dinner. You said yes and didn’t leave until the next morning, after spending the night in his bed. 

From then on you had had a secret affair with Negan, but didn’t dare to tell Simon, especially not after you saw the tension between the two men escalate. Simon thought strong retaliation was the answer in dealing with rebelling communities, but Negan believed that people were a resource and therefore had to be made to co-operate. You didn’t know if Simon’s plotting had anything to do with his fear of Negan having you, but you knew he was up to something. He didn’t tell you what it was to protect you, but you felt that it wasn’t going to end well. You even broke things off with Negan a month ago in a futile attempt to solve things, but you fell back into each other’s arms the following night. 

Now Simon was gone. 

And Negan was responsible for his death.

You cast down your eyes in shame at the thought. 

Negan cupped your chin and tilted your face up.

“You don’t have to work for points anymore. You will have access to everything you need,” he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. “Baby clothes, diapers, formula, everything. I have already given orders for my room to be refurbished to accommodate a baby cot and extra storing space for the baby stuff.”

You were astonished how he had everything planned out already. 

“I appreciate it, but...I have a job and would like to earn my keep.” 

You could tell that Negan didn’t like your answer from the way he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Absolutely not. You will not go near the laundry room and all the chemicals there. And I sure as shit will not let the mother of my child work for points like a common worker!” his eyes were burning, but not with anger.

“Negan, I need to work. I have to do something to occupy my mind. Especially now that...” you trailed off rubbing your temple as a headache began to form from all the crying.

The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Negan, and his eyes softened immediately.

“Fair enough. But I’m moving you to a different job, one that means no risk for you or the baby. Carson will monitor your health continuously, and you can work only until he deems it safe.”

You didn’t expect him to give in like this but were immensely grateful that he respected your wishes.

"Thank you, Negan,” you whispered truthfully. 

His eyes flickered as you said his name and he brushed your lips with his gloved thumb, silently asking for permission. The air in the room changed, and you felt a shiver go down your spine from the intensity of his gaze. You parted your lips in silent approval, and Negan captured your mouth in a kiss. 

He was tender and slow, exploring your mouth as if it had been the first time, savouring the taste of you. A low moan escaped your throat as he deepened the kiss, his tongue massaging yours lazily. The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth as the wound on his lip ripped open, but you didn’t mind. A whiff of fresh sweat, leather and his spicy body wash reached your nose and invaded your senses. 

His gloved hand wrapped around your throat, tilting your chin up for better access as he lowered his lips to your jaw and neck, trailing soft bites and licks on your skin before returning to claim your mouth again. Your tongues began to dance, battling for dominance and you let him win easily. You could practically taste the essence of hunger on him that was no doubt fuelled by the left-over adrenaline from the fight and it made you heady with anticipation. He was impatient to release the pent-up energy, and you were more than ready to let him use your body for it.

You found your back pressed against the wooden door as Negan pinned you to it with his hip, pushing his solid erection into your core. His free hand was roaming your body greedily and squeezed your ass, rocking his pelvis into yours. You buried your fingers in his hair, tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck, urging him on.

“I want you.” he husked into your ear and started grinding his body against yours for more friction.

Moving his hand to the hem of your t-shirt he lifted the garment and skimmed your stomach, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Deftly unzipping your pants, he slid his hand into your panties and traced your slit, groaning into your mouth at the feel of your slick arousal coating his digits. He started rubbing tiny circles around your clit with his thumb, and you spread your legs submissively, desperate to feel him inside you. 

Every nerve ending in your body was on fire, and you moaned out loud, losing yourself in the feeling of pure pleasure. You couldn’t think about anything else but wanting him to take you, own you, and cleanse your body with his touch from your sin. 

Then images of the fight appeared in front of your eyes, breaking through the haze of desire and feeling Negan’s fingers tighten around your throat made you panic. The same hand was entwined around Simon’s neck merely half an hour ago. A cold sweat broke out on your forehead, and you felt the room closing in on you.

The warmth of Negan’s lips was all of a sudden not pleasant anymore: it felt like white-hot iron pressed against your skin, burning you, branding you. You needed to get out of the tightness of his embrace and the heat of his kiss before it consumed you.

Your eyes flew open and placing one hand on his chest pushed him away, abruptly breaking the kiss. He pulled back confused, his eyes half-lidded and clouded with lust. Panting hard he tried to kiss you again, but you placed your other hand on his chest and held him at arm’s length. 

Your body might have taken over your mind earlier, but it reclaimed control now and stopped you before things escalated, and Negan’s pull could draw you in completely. No matter how much you wanted him, and how tempting the thought of numbing the agony through sex sounded, it was not the remedy for your pain. 

“I’m sorry, but...” you sighed breathlessly. “I can’t...” You felt your throat tighten and your eyes well up again. “I need time to...to...”

Negan put his index finger on your lips, silencing you.

“Shhh...I know, baby,” he leaned down and touched his forehead to yours. “It’s okay. I got you.” He pulled you back against his chest and started caressing your hair. 

Closing your eyes you relaxed against him, feeling relief spread through you as Negan’s words chased the horrific images of the fight and the bitter taste of guilt in your mouth away. 

But deep down inside you were torn. Despite the despair you felt over losing Simon, you still loved Negan. Simon might have been your brother, but Negan was your friend, lover and now the father of your child. How could you deny your feelings for either one of them?

You could only hope that wherever Simon was now, he would understand what you were going through. Your heart might have been broken into two, and the part that belonged to Simon was dead, but the other was still beating for Negan with all its might.


End file.
